


Heartache on the Big Screen

by babyhulk



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: (if you can call it accidental), Accidental Kissing, Angst, Fluff, Humor, I Blame Tumblr, Idiots in Love, M/M, Oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22856443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyhulk/pseuds/babyhulk
Summary: Reality crashes back with the force of a fastball to the helmet, jerking Adam out of the hazy, floating atmosphere and he stumbles back, terror crashing like ice floes down his spine.Stoin is watching him with wide, wide,wideespresso-dark eyes, flush deepening. “Um.”~~~The one where there's a kiss, a bunch of adorable PDA in a country where it probably isn't that advisable and the fallout. There are closets and jealousy and Maxi, and, as always, a little drama in the resolution.
Relationships: Marcus Stoinis/Adam Zampa
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	Heartache on the Big Screen

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by real events. Then again, most things are. But we all remember the Dubai big screen incident with these two, right? Anyway, I wrote this way back when and decided to fix it up a little and share, I guess.

The kiss had been…unfortunate.

Adam can barely think about it without his chest squeezing airtight and his throat locking up in horror, can barely look at Stoin without uncomfortable heat pressing in on his ears, fighting the blush threatening his cheeks with years of practised will power.

It hadn’t been his fault, not really. He blames the flush of red wine in Stoin’s cheeks, the glimmer of dark brown eyes under hallway lights as they headed back to their rooms after dinner with the team. They had lost Coults to his phone, a call from his wife pulling a fond look into his eyes as he drifted away towards his room, and they had shaken Kane by the games room for a final rematch at the pool table.

They are well and truly alone. They are alone in that quiet hotel hallway, the swish of the carpet beneath their feet and Stoin’s enthusiastic but quiet rambling about starting the Pakistan series and “_watching you kill it from the outfield, Zamps, it’s gonna be bloody awesome” _filling the yawning space_._

Adam is only half listening, transfixed by the warmth in his chest and the way his heartbeat is strong and too-steady, pounding in his ears, his hands almost shaking with how much fondness he feels for the man walking next to him. He has to stop the flow of words, the constant thrum of utter belief in him given so freely, so openly and wholeheartedly by this stupid beautiful man in a way he doesn’t deserve, because he might quietly expire right here beneath the overwhelming white-water roar of his emotions.

So he does the only thing that he can think of.

He lifts a hand into Stoin’s hair and pulls him slightly downward until he can catch that soft mouth with his. His entire world goes still. Presses in, kissing that full lower lip, fingers curling against Stoin’s scalp, other hand hanging by his side.

The world falls quiet.

Until there’s a sharp inhale.

Reality crashes back with the force of a fastball to the helmet, jerking Adam out of the hazy floating atmosphere, and he stumbles back, terror crashing like ice floes down his spine.

Stoin is watching him with wide, wide, _wide_ espresso-dark eyes, that red-wine flush deepening. “Um.”

“Alright, yeah, that’s—g’night, mate.” Words drip out, clumsy and stuttered through a thick tongue.

Adam’s heart is _racing, _thundering against his ribs as he walks away, quick but tightly controlled steps taking him past Stoin’s room and towards his own. All he can think is, _what the fuck did I just do? _

*

There’s no mention of it. Not the next morning. Not the day after that. And when game day finally dawns, misery is still a squirming, living thing in his stomach, intestines twisted up and around themselves in skin-crawling humiliation.

Stoin must have _hated _it. Christ, it must have freaked him out. What the _fuck _was he thinking?

They hadn’t spent much time together since Adam had taken a wrecking ball to his own life and it had been noticed. Finchy had thrown him furrowed brows over a net session, Pete had arched an eyebrow when Stoin chose to go out with the morning coffee crew instead of his usual coffee session with Adam, Ussie and Shaun had come up to him to ask if everything was okay, and even _JL _had pulled him aside for a chat.

_No, nothing’s wrong. No, we’re not in a tiff. Yes, we’re fine, Coach. Yes, I’m absolutely sure. _

JL’s eyes bore into his back as he escapes.

Adam is an idiot. An idiot who had to go and kiss his best friend when he didn’t even have the excuse of being drunk to blame it on.

So when game day dawns and the awkward tension between them is a bleeding mess stretching between them, Adam swallows past the needles in his throat after catching Stoin’s eyes in the dressing room and slips away to check on his kit.

Finchy takes to the UAE air like a fish to water, something obviously settling under his skin as he crashes his way through a half-century that has the balcony clapping with their hands in the air, and Adam is smiling at him through the glass doors of the balcony, ecstatic and quietly relieved for his captain who’s breaking his drought after so long in style.

When he goes outside, there are two seats free between Pat and Coults, so with a glance down towards the field where Finchy slams off another to the fine-leg boundary to reach eighty-two, Adam slips in next to Coults. Stoin steps out a few minutes later and though Adam is focused on the game he stiffens a little, watching out of the corner of his eye as Stoin makes for the seats beside Ussie but Maxi throws a look at Stoin which has him backtracking and collapsing into the chair beside Adam.

Nice to know he has to be forced on pain of death to sit next to him now. Yeah, Adam feels _great. _

He breathes in slow and quiet, heart ticking up because it’s _weak_ and _stupid_ and craves Stoin’s attention like a sunflower turning to the sun, and ignores the heat suddenly along his left, eyes on the field. Excluding the two of them, everyone is chatting, commenting about the game, little quips here are there and laughs punched out between overs.

The silence between them, usually filled with little nudges and wisecracks under their breath, is excruciating, a yawning chasm that threatens to swallow them whole. Adam’s skin crawls a little as he wriggles in his seat and even Coults’ steady commentary doesn’t distract him.

Stoin keeps shifting and Adam inevitably finds his attention drifting from the game every time. There is discomfort in that familiar face, pleading glances at a stoic Maxi who glares him down each time Stoin tries to make a run for the newly empty seat next to Maxi. He supposes he should be glad that Maxi is trying to do his part to fix this, but neither of them is giving him much to work with.

Adam tries not to let it get to him. But it sticks like a sharp little shard just under his heart, digging and digging and digging a little deeper every time Stoin tries to make a break for it, and maybe Adam is bleeding out all over his diaphragm, maybe his ribs are coated in the mess of his stupid feelings, maybe he would rather have to go out there and bat at number three than sit here any longer with someone who just doesn’t want to be anywhere near him.

Shaun hits it into the sky and Adam’s hissed gasp is lost to the din of the crowd, JL’s almost hilarious little yelp from two rows down and Ussie’s little _oi mate! _echoing around them. Adam’s hand is on his face, watching with his pointer finger braced on his temple, the others resting on his nose, other hand clutching the fabric over his opposite shoulder.

He breathes out as its mis-fielded, wiping away the momentary heart attack and brushes the stray hair out of his eyes as he drops his hands back to his lap.

Coults shoots him an amused look, murmurs, “Chill, mate, we’d still have had Finchy.”

Adam elbows him in the arm. God, these stupid fucking feelings are messing with him, he can’t even handle a sky-hit without overreacting. He looks up in time to catch the big screen flicker from the replay of the almost-wicket and the bowler’s frustrated expression to him and Stoin.

Oh.

He looks away.

“On screen.”

Adam’s eyes flick back up to the massive screen across the ground at the sound of Stoin’s low voice.

He almost smiles. Stoin looks good, because of course he looks good, jaw working against the chewing gum, hair sticking up a little in places where his mullet is messed up, the shimmer of those eyes and the width of those shoulders all caught on the jumbo screen for everyone to see. Adam cringes a little at his own hair but gives that up as a lost cause.

He almost sees Stoin lean back in slow motion on the screen, twisted misery in his stomach easing a little as he watches it happen. The heat of Stoin’s back against his arm makes it feel like nothing has changed and his head is leaning towards him, Adam’s own bruised heart ticking up in his chest, and Adam keeps his eyes on the screen and leans up to kiss the arch of that cheek, maybe the cut of that jaw.

Why? Don’t ask him why, alright, he already said that he’s an idiot.

But before he can though, Stoin is leaning away again and Adam swallows all of the stupid puppy-like hope that had immediately jumped up in his chest, deep below the haunted echo of his heart.

“Zoinis on screen,” Maxi calls from the row below, low and lightly teasing, and a chuckle goes around the balcony.

Adam keeps his eyes on the field.

The camera stays on them after the next ball and Stoin is sitting far away as he can in his seat, practically in Pat’s lap, Adam thinks a little bitterly.

“They’re probably talking about how close we are,” he says, nudging Stoin in the side, and it sounds like a warning.

Stoin immediately shifts all the way across to press, warm and solid, against Adam’s side. Adam swallows the shock and a bursting grin that rises inside his chest like a firework, and lifts his arm to settle on Stoin’s back, fingers sliding into the soft fluffy hair he’d clutched the night of that stupid kiss, nails scraping gently against the scalp.

Stoin settles a little easier into Adam’s side, arches his neck into the hair scratches like a satisfied puppy, and Adam watches Stoin’s face on the big screen, watches his eyes glimmer brown with flashes of light, and his hand slides off to settle on Stoin’s shoulder.

Adam sits there with his heart in his throat, eyes sliding all over, flickering to Stoin’s face and away again, everywhere except to concentrate on what’s happening in the field – god knows Finchy could be out, Shaun could’ve broken a leg, the sky could be bleeding red and Adam wouldn’t fucking know – and he almost jumps when Stoin nudges his ear against his hand.

It’s a near thing but thank god for who he is, he doesn’t react, just hooks his fingers around Stoin’s ear, settling his thumb under the slice of his jaw and brushing his fingers across warm skin, using every excuse to let the pads of his fingers glide across the smooth, soft cheek.

Until Stoin turns his head and presses his mouth to Adam’s fingers.

His middle finger drags at Stoin’s lower lip, pressing hot against the full pad of Adam’s finger and Adam’s heart slams against his ribs so hard he wonders if he might have broken a few.

His eyes had fallen to JL and just as Stoin’s mouth brushes across his fingers, JL twists around in his seat with an amused, fondly exasperated twist to his mouth and a little grin pulls at Adam’s lips in return.

Stoin’s huff of laughter seems to make the big screen shine and Adam can’t help the full smile that slips through as JL turns back to the field and shakes his head, his resigned grin caught on camera for the ground to see.

“You two are _adorable,” _Pete says, grinning. “That’s going to be all over the cricketing internet by tomorrow.”

Maxi is grinning like the cat that got the cream, the canary _and _an extra helping of mouse, sharp knowing eyes fixed on Stoin who has all but frozen up completely once again.

Adam’s heart sinks to his stomach.

The moment he can get away with it, as the balcony explodes with cheers for Finchy’s massive six into the back of the stands down the ground, Stoin is across the balcony and slipping in next to AT. Adam almost watches him go in slow motion, the cheering around him winking out into silence. Maxi’s face melts into silent disbelief when he glances back and sees Adam by himself.

Beneath the excitement, beneath the hopes dashed against the rocks, a kernel of sparking anger blooms in the darkness.

*

The match ends in a blaze of glory, Finchy finishing on 116 and getting man of the match, and the celebrations when they get Finchy alone in their dressing room are wild. Finchy’s smile is luminous and he has Maxi hanging off one arm, a well-deserved beer in the other, and looks like the boulders that have been sitting on his shoulders since India—hell, since _last year_—have finally slid off.

Adam is happy, he is. But that little ember in his stomach flares to life when Stoin throws himself across Pete’s back and kisses him on the cheek so close to his mouth that Pete is startled into pulling away, making a face at a laughing Stoin who pulls him back in for another kiss, this time to the temple, just to make Pete’s twisted expression melt into laughter as he snaps something back.

The flare explodes into molten lava burning through his veins, anger pouring into that cavernous space where warmth had been resting when Stoin had kissed his fingers. _Stoin had kissed his fingers. _Deaf to the words Coults yells his way and blind to the room around him, jealousy roaring to life with its ugly head searing through the wall he’d buried it under, Adam stalks across the dressing room, curls sharp fingers around Stoin’s left arm and wrenches him out of the room.

It’s white noise in his head, Stoin’s confused protests barely filtering into Adam’s brain as he stalks down the stadium hallway. He doesn’t know where he’s going, all he knows is that he needs to be away from the happiness and he needs Stoin away from Pete. The thing in his chest grows talons, curving needle-sharp inside him, unpleasant and sour.

_Storage. _

Perfect.

He throws open the door and slips inside, towing Stoin in after him.

Stoin pulls free once the door bangs shut after them, leaving them in the dimness of the fluorescent light above their heads.

“What the fuck was that for?”

The slam of the door rips him out of the _redredred_ haze. Clarity slaps him across the face.

Adam is staring at the door, panic swirling into the rapidly widening cracks in the anger as he realises exactly what he’s just done. He just locked them both in a closet.

If Kane was here, he would choke up a lung laughing.

“Zorb, what the hell are you doing?”

He spins around. He spins around and he can feel all his defences crumbling, he can feel the anger, the desperation, the years of tormented feelings, the days of not talking, the rubbed raw sensitivity of the day, and the sheer exhausted ache of being stupid in love with his best friend just flowing out from the box he’d been stuffing everything into, a volcano set to explode.

There is only one place for it to go. And that’s out.

“I’m sorry I kissed you!” His voice is hoarse, gravel-rough, echoing in the small space around. Stoin stumbles back, startled. “I’m sorry I fucking kissed you, Marcus, but I can’t fucking lose your friendship because of it.”

Stoin is silent, his silence rings in the aftermath of Adam’s words.

_Fuck._

Adam takes a deep, shuddering breath and tries to rein his rampant emotions back. Suddenly, the exhaustion of the day weighs his shoulders down and he sags back against the door, pressing a hand into his face as sudden, horrible tears ache in his throat, stinging in the corners of his eyes.

_What the fuck…Jesus, Adam, you can’t fucking cry._

“Listen. I—” He heaves a short sigh, rubs his eyes, and makes himself look up into Stoin’s eyes, red after the day but beautiful to Adam still. “You can go back, I just…” A punched-out, humourless laugh leaks out of him. “I’m a jealous, bitter arsehole, that’s all.”

He really had just lost it over Pete. _What a mess. _

A short, sharp silence. Then—

“Why did you kiss me?”

Adam’s eyes snap up. “What?”

Stoin is watching him with a steady expression though the knuckles of his hand curled around the storage shelf are white. His jaw tightens. “You kissed me that night, Zamp. We weren’t drunk. Why?”

_Oh, so now we’re talking about it._

He breathes out slowly but doesn’t look away. “Because…because I wanted to.”

_“Why?” _

“I just, I wanted to, Marcus,” Adam says, reluctant, stomach churning. “That’s it. I wanted to.”

“Why? You’ve never fucking done that before!”

Terror fuels him. Patience fails him.

“Because, Stoin, I’m in love with you, you bastard, and sometimes resisting you is harder than trying to get Dhoni out at the ass-end of a losing game!”

The words resonate inside the storage closet and Adam can barely breathe, staring Stoin with wide eyes as his own words echo in his head, echo around them, and cringes in on himself, shoulders curling forward. He slumps back against the door and tears a hand through his hair, and laughs at the ceiling, head thudding back against metal.

“Well,” he says quietly. His own voice is unbearable, barely recognisable in its misery. “I guess now you know.”

There’s a silence before Stoin speaks.

“You’re an idiot, Zorb.”

His head snaps forward and Adam gapes at Stoin. Stoin takes a shaky breath, smiling. _Smiling. Why is he smiling?! _

“I’ve been in love with you since I moved to Victoria.”

Adam can’t speak.

There are no words for him to find, just absolute shock ringing in his head as he stares at Stoin in front of him. His hands are shaking and he curls them into fists to hide it but it doesn’t stop, fists quivering with the earthquake in his chest. The white-hot wash of anger and cold disappointment that had been in his system all week fades away, extinguished like a flame at sea, as a flickering light dances in Stoin’s dark eyes.

Stoin swallows heavily, looking down for a moment. Adam is vibrating in his skin, heartbeat loud in his ears, nails digging deep into his palms as he watches Stoin open his eyes again and look up.

“How could I not be?” He asks.

Adam is going to explode into a shower of glitter and rainbows and all the horrible soft, squishy things in the world. It’s a horrible feeling but maybe the aching, aching threat of tears behind his eyes that feels like it’s been ever-present for the past few days is worse.

“I’m in love with you, Zamp, I always have been.” Stoin gestures helplessly with his hands, eyebrows furrowing as he smiles.

He looks almost as lost as Adam feels.

Adam heaves a strangled laugh, choking on a breath, and crosses the closet in two short strides, tipping up on to his toes in front of Stoin to pull him in for a hard, bruising kiss, curling his fingers into short, soft hair. A soft laugh is muffled against his mouth and Stoin shifts his grip to pull Adam closer, sliding their lips together.

Adam kisses him, in front of God, a shelf of bleach and his own terrified feelings.

It only lasts for a few, lingering moments but it’s enough to make Adam’s head spin. Years. Years and years and finally, he gets to have this. He yanks Stoin in for another kiss, until the knot of misery disappears from his stomach, replaced by pulsing warmth.

He pulls away to rest their foreheads together, eyes opening to watch his thumbs brush over Stoin’s cheekbones. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Yeah, me too.”

Stoin surges up for a kiss that Adam will remember for the rest of his life, burning through him until it settles, steady and strong in each beat of his heart.

“Think we’re stupid for doing this now, here?” Adam asks, the words quiet between them.

Stoin tightens his arms around Adam, dimples deep and gaze warm. “I’m twenty-nine, it’s not stupid. Whatever happens with the cricket thing, happens. But I’ve always known you’d be the rest of my life, Zamp, in whatever way I got to have you.”

Butterflies.

Adam hasn’t felt that in years, the flustered flutter in his stomach, the easy flush spilling into his cheeks at the blunt, simple words. The words pack a punch right to his stomach. He groans low in his throat, pushing his face into Stoin’s neck to hide the blush. Stoin’s laughter ruffles his hair, hands pressing steady and warm against his back, comforting.

“Same, or whatever,” he mumbles into warm skin.

Stoin’s guffawing laughter breaks them apart as he curls in on himself, choking on, _“Same, or whatever_, he says_.” _He howls with it until Adam finds himself scowling and he’s yanked back into strong arms, Stoin’s cackles in his ear. A hot kiss smudges across his cheek, a second to his jaw. “You’re incredible, Adam, I love you.”

Adam curls his arms around Stoin and presses his smiling mouth against a sharp collarbone.

_Yeah, yeah maybe this is all worth it. _

After several quiet moments, the door flies open and they startle apart as the hallway light spills into the closet.

Maxi and Finchy are standing there with incredulous looks on their faces and Adam can’t hide the grin that blooms across his face as Stoin wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him into his side.

“Hello, boys,” Finchy says, a grin threatening behind dimples.

“You planning to come out of that closet anytime soon?” Maxi asks and his smug, knowing smile is sharp at the corners.

Adam lets his head thud onto Stoin’s shoulder with a loud, frustrated groan.

He hates everything.

Maxi’s smile is all too self-satisfied.

“Not even you can ruin today for me,” Stoin says cheerfully, and Adam reaches up to kiss him just to hear Maxi squawk and Finchy sigh.

**Author's Note:**

> I really should learn to be a little less prone to fictional drama...
> 
> Anyway!! Hope you guys enjoyed reading this one, I can't remember exactly what I was thinking when I first wrote this but all I remember is the actual, legit news articles that were born out of this the next day and being stunned that this made actual sporting news. Anyway, leave a comment and let me know your thoughts. Much love!! xx


End file.
